


Once A Sinner Always A Sinner

by Seedcounty



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Biting, Choking, Creampie, Drinking, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gen, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Religious Cults, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2020-10-14 23:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20609159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seedcounty/pseuds/Seedcounty
Summary: What if everyone's favorite Deputy wasn't a stranger to the Seeds? What if being assigned such a high profile case for her first arrest wasn't just a coincidence?





	1. Take Me Back to The Start

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many plans for this series, and I'm so freaking excited to get started !! The next two chapters should be posted shortly !

Hope County wasn’t always thrust into chaos and damnation, it once held joy and a sense of community. The people trusted one another and the government to keep them safe, there was no real threat outside of the odd flu that swept through the area every year or the odd drunken car crash. At least so it had appear on the outside, to other communities like Hope County is was nothing short of picturesque. Until you began to unravel the layers and slowly the dark secrets came forward, the cruel realities of the foster system and the abuse some children at the Hope County Highschool found by the hands of their drunk parents. Only those in similar situations would know the truth of it all, would know the pain each felt and the sheer relief when the abuse halted if only for a moments glance. It’s that notion of familiarity that plagued Deputy the moment she read over the initial case file, the name bolded in large arial font forcing a flutter to regular heart beat. How could she have ever anticipated that after all the years she’d spent away from Montana and Hope County that she would end up right back where she started, that she would end up finding herself face to face with the family that drove her out in the first place?

For three weeks Deputy begged and begged the Sheriff to let her in on the case, to let her tag alone on this one; that she’d do every little bit of grunt work until the fateful day that the Marshall would be enacting upon the warrant. Memories of a time long since passed continued to plague her each night, though she wouldn’t have called them nightmares despite the way she woke violently drenched in sweat each night. Those restless nights and the anxious requests day in and day out to join the arresting party began to weigh on her mind, self doubt and guilt creeping into her system until one morning her phone is practically screaming at her; clock reading five AM. “Deputy --- we’re going after Seed. Be at the station in forty minutes.” There would be no room for error, no room for hesitation or a notion of reminiscing. She knew that by heart, knew that this was the moment she had been yearning for, for so very long. It would take nearly all day to prepare, to ensure the team was ready for such a drastic action.

“We’re crossing into Henbane now.” Vaguely she’s aware of the pilot's voice over the headset, gaze venturing out the helicopter window to take in the sight. No, this looks nothing like it used to. It seems that everything has changed since she was in this area; things appear much more tainted than she recalls. Gaze widens drastically as large structure comes into view, gody and over compensated, perhaps beyond measure. “Jesus --- “ Terribly ironic, wasn’t it? Eyes focus back onto the sheriff and Marshall, ignoring the blatantly crude tone from the Marshall and instead relying on the wisdom of the Sheriff she’s come to admire. “We’re officially in Peggie country, how much longer now?” Once more she’s tuning the voices out in favor of watching their surroundings. It’s not until they’re nearly at the compound that Deputy perks up once more, an utterance of, “Last change to change your mind, Marshall.” Of course nothing is changed and the helicopter has landed mere seconds later, seat belt unbuckling with ease as she pushes outside of the chopper; feet suddenly feeling a hell of a lot more wobbly.

How could they have changed this drastically in such a short amount of time? How could people be shells of their former selves? Changed into something that a former friend would no longer recognize that someone couldn’t recall as intimately as they used to. Heart practically leaps into her chest as the sound of a gun clicks, trigger sounding but no booming clap is heard instead a gas lit hiss and fire alights a bonfire, drastic measure. Who in the fuck would have a fully functioning flame thrower? There’s question after question as feet blindly follow her superiors towards the church, that guilt she’s been feeling for weeks is back in spades now; gripping at her chest like a small toddler desperate for their mothers touch. Armed guards in a religious place, how does that even begin to not raise red flags all over the place? How had someone outside of Hope County’s governing police force not gotten involved until now? If all that was in the report was true, why had it taken this long to act on a warrant? Why hadn’t they sent in more people, more patrols even? None of it makes sense, but as it seems nothing makes sense here anymore. “We do this? We do it my way, quietly.” Somehow that seemed unrealistic, in her mind. The church doors are flush open, sermon being spoken like Gods true intent verbalized. The passion behind the words clearly striking those within the confines of the church, a multitude of people lining the pews; let alone those standing up front with machine guns strapped to their bodies. No church she’d ever been to allowed artillery weapons in such a holy place, it had been always considered ungodly to bring such violence into a place of refuge and peace --- yet, these men looked proud to wave their guns around, strapped to them with great pride. None of it matters the second the two men in front of her part and she’s brought face to face with the founder of the sermon, sapphires hardening the second they’ve met her own; yet religious intent doesn’t halt. Not until -- “Joseph Seed! I have a warrant issued for your arrest on the suspicion of kidnapping with the intent to harm, now I want you to step forward and keep your hands where I can see them.”

She feels so very small under the watchful gaze of those before her, not because of the automatic weaponry and certainly not because she stands behind a federal Marshall, but because of whom the gaze belongs to. Can they see it like she can? Do they recognize the fear or the longing instilled deep inside of her? Do they hold the same emotions that continue to riddle her the longer she stands there? “We knew this moment would come.” He’s so much closer now, she can practically see the cogs turning in his head; the figures behind him have breath catching in her throat. They’re all there, every single one of them. How could nothing be said, how could nothing but spewed prophet sound. No sense of familiarity, nothing but plagued speech and instructions to slap cuffs on the man standing in front of her. Hesitation, there’s no room for it and yet she does just that debating over her possible actions until the weight of his gaze becomes to much and metal clasps over warm flesh; gloved thumb mindlessly brushing over his wrist. No, no room for hesitation.

Questions on the tip of her tongue daring to spew forth as they walk through the compound, grip tight against bare shoulder in fear of some sense of retaliation from either side. How had things changed so drastically, how had Joseph changed so drastically? Did he even recognize her, did anyone inside the church recognize her? Deputy wasn’t sure but what she was certain of, was that if they didn’t get the hell out of here soon his followers would act. They’ve barely made it onto the chopper before hell begins to break loose, and god damn it all she can’t keep her gaze away from Joseph. He seems so calm despite those crawling onto the helicopter, despite desperate pleas from her fellow officers for help. Nothing bothers him, he’s simply staring back at her as if expecting something and then just as swiftly there’s loud noises screaming at them and fear grips her tightly -- they’re going down.

She doesn’t quite remember the crash, doesn’t remember the sound of metal bending together and snapping off. Doesn’t remember how the pilot screams right before glass shards pierce his jugular, cutting his life short in a matter of seconds. Body aches something terrible, though there’s nothing broken from what she can tell. Humming distracts her only to form into words that startle Deputy to her core; warm breath on her face. “_No one is coming to save you._” If only she could have understood just how true those words would become, how deep it would root within her. If only she could know what was to come, perhaps she would have heeded the guilt in her stomach; perhaps she would have simply walked away.


	2. Nothing Is As It Appears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reflection into the last time Deputy saw each Seed & where she stands now with one of them. Perhaps not all is as lost as it appears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashbacks will be in third person, while present day will always be in second ! More of Deputy's past with the Seed's will be revealed, don't worry. Chapter three will be coming soon & I promise it's about to get a whole lot steamier ;)

_Sterile. Why did all hospitals smell as though someone dumped six tons of bleach on the floors at any given time? The stench nearly always made her choke, practically able to taste the clorox with each breath she inhaled. However this time she knew the stench wasn’t so much a bother but a relief, for it meant that the patient she was visiting was in good care, that he would be in the best hands possible for his condition. “John!” Voice leaves her the second she’s caught on to his form, rounding the corner onto a new stretch of white on white hallway, his frame slouched in a chair; certainly not a good sign. Hurried feet have her reaching him in a matter of seconds, smaller frame engulfed within his so tight she swears that her ribs are about to bust. “Easy, John.” Soft spoken new comer enters her periverial view and for a moment she’s still, scared to move, over taken by GUILT. Three years since she left them, three years since she’d spat such vile words at them all and now look where they were in a god damn hospital; brought together by unforeseen events. “Joseph.” Name falls like a prayer, emotions overwhelming her as she’s thrown herself into another set of warm arms, tears already staining the cloth she’s buried her face into._

_It seemed that their past didn’t matter in that moment, for they all shared one broken heart. “Is he going to be okay?” Singular question airs with such alarming weight, gaze shifting between brothers unsteady. “It will take some time.” Joseph doesn’t sound so sure, his voice raw with emotion as fingers brush gently to wipe fallen tears from her features. “When they found him -- said everyone else in his platoon was dead.” It’s now Johns turn to sound exhausted, pushed to his very limit. It has her wondering how long they’ve been here, how many times have they yelled at the military doctors? What weren’t they telling her? “Can ---- “ Silence as she bites down against bottom lip, metallic taste hits her tongue. “Can I see him?” There’s that pang of guilt again, over words spoken so long ago. How could she have left them, how could she have LIED to their faces. “He’s not the same, darlin’” Still she nods and leaves the two Seeds in favor of stepping into the room holding a third, breath instantly catching in her throat with a sob._

_“Oh Jacob.” Too many wires, too many machines. She’s by his side in a matter of seconds, gaze roaming over his features; choking back another sob at the burns on his skin. He’ll be riddled with scars before this is all over, marked forever by what fate had put him through. “Quit cryin’” She almost misses the smart ass remark with how quietly it’s spoken, almost. “Jacob?” It’s out in half laugh half sigh in relief, hand instantly finding his with a squeeze. “Ain’t dead yet.” Words send him into a coughing fit and though she wants nothing more than to apologize for making things seemingly worse by encouraging him to talk, Jacob simply shakes his head and gestures for the water beside the hospital bed; to which she happily and hurriedly obliges. “I didn’t think --- “ No, she refuses to admit it out loud. They all know it wasn’t expected, her returning to them. They’d seen the worst in each other, a swarm of steps in the wrong direction had seen to that. Alcohol, drugs, abuse. Each of them had been victims of it and yet fell prey to it in some form or another. “Bet you weren’t anticipatin’ Joseph’s hair, huh?” There’s a smile reaching her eyes, glancing to the open door where she knows John and Joseph only stand a few feet from. “I like it. All three of you look different since I last saw you….but for the better.”_

It’s almost ironic now that you think about it, how for the second time in five years you’ve found yourself in the presence of the Seed brothers and once again all three of them had changed more than you cared to admit. The first proof of that had been the night of the attempted arrest, you didn’t want to believe everything in the report but after flying over Henbane and witnessing first hand the sermon that Joseph preached, you couldn’t deny the evidence. Shit, three months into it you certainly couldn’t deny it. You’ve witnessed too many people fall to the whims of Joseph and his cult not to understand the jeopardy that Hope County was in. Hard to believe that a man who was once soft spoken and timid had become such an animated and deeply religious man. Never would you have painted Joseph as religious, in fact you can recall a time that he’d been flabbergasted over those whom blindly followed the word of the church. How had so much changed so quickly? That didn’t even begin to touch on the change to John and Jacob. Although perhaps PTSD could be blamed for Jacob’s change in demeanour, though what was John’s excuse? Or maybe, just maybe you hadn’t known the three of them as well as you once thought for now? Now they were completely different men and it seemed they didn’t even recognize you.

“_Deputy_.” Sing song voice mocks over the radio waves and for a moment you wonder if Sharky is going to answer for you, the way he glares at your hip as the radio crackles, it appears he might. “It’s okay.” Hand is held up to your companion, grateful that you have so many people on your side in this on going war of a town clearly lost to anarchy. “What do you want, John?” Sharp breath is taken inward after you click off the radio, waiting to see the response. Chest practically burns in memory of how his knife sliced into skin, inch by inch carving a sin for the world to see. Yes, he wasn’t the man you once knew. That single event proved enough to you that whatever you wanted to remember in John, whatever sanity you prayed he still had? It was gone. “_Thought you might like to know we’ve got a hunting party looking for you, you know -- maybe a nice heads up for a change._” Feigned laughter is his response, grip tight on your radio. “How thoughtful.” There’s a nod in Sharky’s direction to get going back to base, following behind him instantly. “_I’m a thoughtful guy, Deputy. You oughtta know that by now._” It catches you off guard, staring at the radio as it goes silent. It’s a trick, isn’t it? Since this all started there’s been no shred of recognition from any of the Seeds, not even the smallest of inklings but that? John was a man of words, he knew the power he held with each one so why would he phrase it like that? Sharky must have sensed something was up because there’s a small stick being waved in front of your face, low chuckle as he adjusts his rifle. “Fuckin’ told you! Guys got such a hard on for you it ain’t even funny.”

Staying at the prison wasn’t safe, but it’s not like you had anywhere else to stay. It seemed that any small cabin or house was ether ransacked or turned over to the cult. The prison was your only hope and frankly with as many weapons as the Whitetails had stored there? It worked, not to mention having Cheeseburger and Peaches on your side. Boomer helped too, mind you having a literal guard grizzly scared the shit out of a few cultists on the daily. “Dep!” Rugged voice snaps you from your trance, gaze shifting up to find the Sheriff standing in the doorway, gesturing for you to follow. “You need to see this.” It only takes a minute or two to get up to the top of the prison, ignoring how many armed guards are pointing to the far field, trigger fingers itching to pop. White flowers stark against the dark of the night, breeze catching the scent. “It’s a fuckin’ trick man, has to be. Aint no one that dumb, right?” Sharky’s voice is like a curse laden voice of reason, one that you’re debating ignoring because you know this has to mean something. A truce, perhaps if only for a period of time. “I’m going down.” You’ve already made up your mind, moving to haul over the top of the prison and down onto a parked car; waving off yells from your companions to come back. Briefly there’s a utterance from the Sheriff for everyone to watch your back but to hold fire until you’re out of the shot, he trusts you perhaps more than he should you think. But in the end, you know Faith wouldn’t come this close to the prison unless she had a reason to. Unless there was a message.

Admittedly it’s a little weird to see the normally empty field cast in a glow so bright that even the stars seem dull, but it’s not the bliss that really worries you. No, it’s the nimble young woman prancing towards you that voices concern the closer you walk. If you stay there too long you’re going to start feeling it, there’s already a lightness to your limbs and god, you feel good. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay out here. _No_, you need to stay focused. “You listen so well.” Her voice is sweet like honey, honey with flies drowning inside. “Why are you here, Faith?” The name is bitter on your tongue, this woman is NOT the Faith you once knew. A twisted game Joseph has continued to play, if all the rumours are true. “The Father sent me, of course. He wants you to know that he hasn’t given up on you, you will be welcomed into Eden with open arms, Deputy.” Scoff leaves your lips, head shaking in the negative. “You tell _The Father_ that I’m done playing his little games.” For a moment Faith looks as though she’s going to snap, eyes hardened and stance rigid before giggles leave her and once more she’s dancing through the field away from you. The bliss has started to become too much, so perhaps it’s for the best that you part ways. Yet, there’s something nagging at the back of your mind, that there’s something more to Faith’s words. To the message Joseph offered.

“_There’s someone out there pretending to be a soldier._” Words ring through your mind as you move through the trees, keeping out of the line of fire for as long as possible. For two days you’d thought about your interaction with Faith until it ate away at you and it became clear that you needed more answers. Between the desire for your own answers and the new outposts constantly popping up, it was apparent that you needed to get out into the mountains and take some cultists out. Plain and simple. “_They are killing our brothers and sisters, and putting the project in jeopardy._” Jacob’s voice is loud over the speakers placed on what seems like every corner of the building, a rather blatant attempt to drive his word into the skulls of his followers. A notion right out of Joseph’s book it seemed, ironic wasn’t it. “Fuck sakes.” Curse leaves you while you set up your rifle, stomach pressing into the earth beneath you, squinting through the lens. At least twelve men stationed outside the building and who knew how many still remained inside, though you knew a party had left only ten minutes prior. Probably leaving you with a good thirty still, but that wasn’t the issue. The issue was getting a certain red head to listen to reason, impossible really. Free hand presses into the clip on your radio, listening to static a moment before shifting to the channel you knew Jacob’s men usually stayed on. “**Sharpshooter, I got a message for you.**” Calling on information of the past, toying with the veteran within him. It takes but a beat for an answer, and though he sounds calm and collected you just know there’s anger beneath the surface. “Hello pup, have you called to admit to your sins?”

There’s movement on the ground catching in your lens, jaw clenching as you watch two of the armed guards pointing directions to others, probably attempting to figure out where you were. Fuckers. “Mmm nope.” Pink brushes against your bottom lip, “Wanted to let you know that I remember.” Static on the other side of the radio has you wondering if he’s going to play into this, wondering if he’s going to dismiss it as though it’s nothing more than idle chatter. For if he does engage, surely it’s a step towards admitting that Jacob remembers you in turn, that there is recognition there; hidden behind lack of sanity. After another minute of silence and with no change on the ground, you’re angling your rifle to the East but there’s still no change in the guards; still searching the area around the building. “I remember how angry I was at you the night I left. I remember how angry I was that you couldn’t admit how fucked up Joseph was with his drinking, how angry I was that you’d rather inlist than face your problems.” A beat. “How I wanted nothing to do with any of you anymore, but you know what else I remember Jacob?” There’s static and then silence, an indicator that he’s listening on the other end and that’s enough to give you hope. “I remember the night in the hospital after they’d brought you back to the states, before I left to go back home --- I remember what you said when I asked if.”

The radio cuts out as slow breathing sounds, your own catching while through the lens movement is spotted on the East balcony; double paned glass doors opening. Through the rifle lens you can see how tight his brows are furrowed, how he seems to be looking for something to latch onto, trying to find you with his naked eye. Christ, your heart feels like it’s going to hammer right out of your chest. “You asked if I had been with anyone else.” Distant voice now melts into the familiar lit that you knew so well, one laced with tenderness of a man you’d thought lost to the war. Which one? You’re not sure. Gulf, Iraq -- Hope county, they’d all taken a piece of him. “What did you say, Jacob?” He’s indulged you this far, hasn’t he? He’s already admitted that he knows if he’s willing to talk about it. Does this mean Joseph and John recognize you too? That perhaps they’re too far gone into this facade of God’s prophet, maybe Jacob was the only one left with rationale and insight. You prayed it was true, prayed that this careless trip out to the mountains was about to pay off. The trees shift in the breeze, light catches from your lens just briefly but it’s enough that Jacob’s head snaps directly to where you’re hidden; gaze heavy as you watch him through your lens. “_**Only you**_.”


	3. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess whose got a day off an intends to pump out at least three new chapters !! Hope you guys are enjoying this series thus far. Also -- is it just me or does Beautiful Dreamer have the same vibe as Only You? Am I basing Joseph's history on the promotional shots Greg Bryk did? 100% yes.

Needless to say the outpost you’d visited the other day hadn’t been wiped out, call it a moment of weakness; lack of judgement. Or you know, just the simple fact that with Jacob’s admission you couldn’t find it within yourself to slaughter everyone residing within the same building he was. Instead you’d managed to claim another outpost at the base of the mountain, surprisingly easy actually. Granted you’d gotten one hell of an ankle sprain from jumping from the roof of one of the buildings to get down onto the balcony and take out a cultist; which you had managed but by damn luck that your knife caught the back of his neck as your weight teetered. It’s because of said sprain that you’ve found yourself laid up for the last three days back in the prison, trying your damnedest not to yell at Sharky and Hurk for their constant bickering over who came up with a particular joke first. But there’s only so many times you can hear it before you’re going to go out of your mind.

It’s the sixth time you’ve heard it in an hour that finally has you snapping, “Boys! I get it -- the joke is fucking _hilarious_ but if I have to spend another hour listening to the two of you bickering about it, I’m going to take this knife and shove it into a jugular.” There’s an embarrassed chuckle coming from Sharky to match Hurk’s blush as he scrubs at the back of his neck, offering a half mumbled apology. A waved hand in gesture and you’re hobbling off the couch and heading out towards the front of the prison, mentioning that you need some air. Which is technically true, but mainly you want a private setting to be able to use the radio. After a twenty minute conversation with one of the Whitetails about how you can definitely manage on your own and don’t need a literal baby sitter, you’ve made yourself comfortable a few feet from the front of the prison, hidden away in the trees but close enough that you can book it back incase an alarm is raised in your absence.

It’s a perfect day out today. Sunshine warm against your skin mingling with fresh crisp morning air, the slightest of breeze just enough to whisp through the trees. You can almost hear the grass around you as the wind swims through it, gliding against your fingers resting against unturned earth. “Shit.” It’s drawled out long and exasperated, knowing that the sole purpose of getting out here, of dealing with the numbing feeling in your ankle was to confront yet another Seed. With the **revelation** from Jacob days prior it only made sense that the next Seed you spoke to would be John, after all _The Baptist_ was known for his own revelations. Fingers twist radio dial until the proper channel is heard, silent before idle chatter begins to sound and for a moment you’re listening intently; curious. It’s nothing terribly important, an update about another Yes sign installed on yet another farm forced to bend to John’s will. After that it’s fallen silent again, which perhaps may be your only window now. 

“I want to confess.” It’s an absolute load of shit and John probably knows that, but at least it’ll grab his attention. There’s static before you can hear low chuckle, a crackling of radio static and then once more it comes to life. “Sin --- I can always feel it, and you my Deputy have plenty to confess to.” Eyes fall shut while fingers pinch the bridge of your nose, breathing out slowly to keep yourself wrapped together. “You’ve already decided for me that Wrath is one of them, care to tell me what other sins I clearly have?” This wasn’t the intended conversation though the build up towards what you did want to talk about, would help. It would lull John into a false sense of security. While it was straight forward with Jacob, it would make things much easier to butter up John than to just bluntly cut to the chase. “Pride and Greed. You take from myself and my family, homes that belong to our followers with little remorse.” It’s the usual high and mighty tone he uses with those god awful broadcasts that tamper with the airwaves of Hope County. The ones that Hurk uses to drive the Sheriff mad enough that he’s gotten used to simply smacking Hurk upside the head, which really no one at the prison blames him for. As much as you adore Hurk he really needs to stop repeating everything he hears on TV.

“You seem to forget one important thing there, John.” There’s not even a beat missed before his voice meets your ears. “And what is that, dear Deputy?” Wasn’t it obvious? It was to you, at least. “Those homes never belonged to the Project in the first place, they belonged to the regular people of Hope County and you and the **cult** took them by force. Hope County used to be peaceful.” You half expect him to ignore you and simply refuse to respond, though that doesn’t sound like John, does it? “All we ever took we took to keep us alive, to keep us on the rightful path for the Project. We did what we had to do for The Father, that’s something you’ll never understand, Deputy. You’re too blinded by your sins to understand the truth we seek.” Now that, right there has your blood boiling. How dare he talk to you of what you won’t understand, of blind behaviour. “You’re the one that’s blind, John. Blind to the reality you’ve created with the bullshit of this cult, with Josephs fucking _God complex_.” Yeah, you’re definitely off track to your planned conversation but now? Now you don’t even want to continue the one at hand, and so you flip the radio off and back to the regular channel with an angry huff of air. “Fucking Seeds.”

Nine o’clock at night and you can’t fucking sleep. Not because it’s too hot or cold outside, not because it’s terribly loud inside the prison but simply because John is still on your mind and he won’t leave. Son of a bitch. You’re twisting your body to reach for your radio in an instant, switching over to the right station and without a second thought. “John --- meet me at Silver Lake. Alone.” He’ll hear it there’s no doubt in your mind about that, though there is a small amount of doubt about whether he'll actually show up or not. It would be easy for the both of you to reach the lake given it’s damn near directly in both Henbane and Holland, like a notion of truce placed upon literal land. A safe haven to meet without bloodshed needing to be spilled. Surely if you could have a conversation with John, if you could confront him it could be there without any repercussions. 

A fifteen minute drive has you turning into the abandoned campground at Silver Lake, engine falling into a dull buzz as you shut the car off; silence aside from your own breathing and the shifting of Boomer beside you. “It’s alright buddy, he’ll show.” Maybe you’re kidding yourself. “His stupid ego won’t let him not show.” At least you hoped that would be the case, but then again John had changed so drastically over the years, maybe his own rage would keep him away. Long heavy sigh slips past your lips as you push out of the truck, clapping your side for Boomer to follow you. There’s something serene about being so close to an open body of water when no one else is around, when the only sound you can hear is the odd owl hoot in the distant, or crickets chirping around you. Perhaps that’s why you practically jump out of your skin when Boomer starts growling from beside you on the lake embankment; alerting you to someone approaching. The gun at your side is instantly clocked, safety off as you point it towards the figure approaching. “When you said alone, I thought no weapons would be an obvious addition.” Smug voice cuts through the darkness, familiar features soon coming into view. Jaw clenches and despite yourself? The gun is placed down beside you, safety back on though something in the back of your mind tells you that’s the dumbest thing you could have done. John’s already proven he’s willing to hurt you in the name of The Father.

“Didn’t think you’d come tonight.” It surprises you how defeated you sound, surprises John given the way he stares at you in silence; blinking a few times only to shake his head and sit beside you. Boomer is still on high alert, pushing between the space of you and John, staring directly at the youngest Seed. “Shh, it’s alright boy.” Gentle touch coaxes the dog to lay down though he’s clearly still not pleased by the newest addition to your peaceful night. “Why are we here, Deputy?” The question almost sounds accusatory, on edge despite his relaxed form; legs crossed out in front of him. For a long time silence is his only answer, uncertainty crossing your features. You won’t be able to sleep until you get this over with. “_Why?_.” Simple question with such alarming weight to it, head turning to face John. Why had he followed Joseph in such a horrendous quest, a quest that has left hundreds of people slaughtered and even more scared for their lives? Why had he become so tainted with lust for others punishments? 

It’s like the air has changed around you the mere second question falls, John’s posture now rigid as though you’ve struck a chord deep within him; bringing forth something long since forgotten. “When everything you’ve relied upon **abandons** you, you begin to search for something else to rely upon -- to believe in.” It’s a hypocritical answer. “Don’t give me that shit, John. No one abandoned you, ever. Joseph and Jacob are still here. You’ve got your followers and sure as shit I’m willing to bet you’ve got a horde of women lined up to crawl into your bed if you ask.” All of that may be true but you’re still avoiding the one person that you both know he’s talking about. With purpose. If you’re going to get John to snap you want him to snap in a moment of passion, to admit everything he’s shielded this version of himself from. “Jacob will always do anything for his baby brother and Joseph is loyal to a god damn fault, so cut the shit --- tell me why, John.” There’s something in his eyes this time around, something eerily familiar. Yet, you still don’t want to count yourself lucky for maybe this is just another let down. Maybe he’s going to spew more bullshit, maybe he’s going to give you a force fed answer brought to you by the new and improved John Seed. 

He doesn’t. “You left. Twice.” Voice hardened by what you can only imagine feels like betrayal for him, though his gaze looks something out of a Disney movie. Woeful and broken. Just like Jacob had days before, John has now admitted that he does indeed remember who you are even if he clearly wants to. Even if someone is telling him to forget. “None of you gave me a choice in that, John -- You know that. I couldn’t…” Breath in slow, trying to keep your nerves together. “I couldn’t stay and watch Joseph drink himself stupid every night. I couldn’t watch you and Jacob pretend like everything was fine, when it killed me inside. Jacob was refusing to acknowledge his own demons, refused to even talk to me at times and then he fucking inlisted! You were always in court.” Shoulders lift into a shrug, biting the inside of your cheek roughly to keep from showing any real emotion. Fingers twitch beside you causing brows to furrow, was he -- did he want to reach for you? It’d be the first genuine reaction you’ve experienced with John since arriving back in Hope county, but it never comes.“You didn’t have to _fucking_ leave us! Jacob was already doing that, you didn’t have to as well and then you just came back one day as if nothing had changed!” Hand is up to get him to stop, because that’s hardly fair. “I came back because I thought Jacob was dead, John. The only information I got was that they’d found him and brought him home, you and Joseph certainly weren’t helpful.” Maybe your answer this time around is bullshit. “You didn’t exactly seem unhappy to see me, anyways. --- I was never going to stay, John. We all had different lives then.” What you want to say is that you couldn’t stay, not that you didn’t want to. Of course you had wanted to stay. Jacob was an absolute mess and his brothers wouldn’t be able to help him without guidance from professional help, and while you couldn’t have offered that you could have offered a shoulder of support. John’s standing so quickly it has Boomer literally stepping into your lap clumsily, a growl leaving him moment later; John doesn’t seem to pay any mind. “You fucking left. That’s all there is to it. You left when all of us needed you the most, I don’t have to listen to your excuses.”

As quickly as he’s turned on his heel to leave you’ve gotten to your feet and have moved after him, hand wrapping around his wrist with a pull towards you, a weak attempt at keeping him there. “John, this isn’t you. Torturing and maiming, that isn’t who you are.” Dangerous low chuckle is the initial response and then you’ve found your space invaded quicker than you can comprehend what’s happening; intense sapphires burning into your own. “You have no idea who I am now. No idea what I’m capable of, _darlin’_.” Bold decision, rash and undoubtedly stupid has your hands lifting to cup his face, pushing on your toes to catch his lips with your own. Tender moment lasts but a second for while you can feel John relaxing against your touch, feel him leaning into you, he’s tearing himself away from you and with hardened glare in your direction he’s taking off. This time it’s you that is being left without any passing thought. This time it’s you that has more questions than answers, and you know there won’t be any sleep for some time to come.


	4. The Mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit is about to hit the fan. The next chapter will have a small flashback as well, so get ready!

Whispers had begun to circulate through out the Whitetails and Cougars about your conduct with John and Jacob as of late, that it appeared like you weren’t all that interested in annihilating the cult any longer. Both Eli and the Sheriff tried to squash the concerns though it’s clear that there are still doubts through out, people who used to be friendly whenever you were around simply turned the other cheek favoring the notion of ignoring you out right. To an extent it hurt, but you also knew you were asking for it. Really there was only way to sate those concerns, and that was simply to destroy outpost after outpost. Which is exactly what you set out to do this morning, and you’ve succeeded thus far. A small fertilizer plantation now claimed in the name of the resistance, those that survived were taken to the prison to collect information on Joseph’s intended plans for the coming weeks. Originally you had wanted to question them, but Eli had insisted it would be better if someone else without _bias_ did. You understood why but it still bothered you, knowing that to some degree he didn’t trust you. Maybe deep within you, you didn’t trust yourself ether. 

However there were still a handful of people that did in fact trust you. Sharky, Hurk and Nick were still on your side, though they often shared uncertain looks assuming you couldn’t see them. You always could, but held your tongue. “I’m tryin’ to be a uh -- more enlightened man, you know?” Sharky’s rattling off behind you as the two of you and Hurk head out to liberate yet another outpost, deciding that walking the distance from the road is probably better than driving in closer; fear of alerting any of Jacob’s men. They’ve probably heard about the other outpost already, they’d be on the lookout. “Shit man you gotta just focus on similarities not differences, like how fuckin’ soft women’s skin is. Ya ever just fucking **touch** them just for the hell of it?” There’s a laugh leaving you at Hurk’s response, typical commentary from the two men you’ve gotten to know so well over the last several weeks. At first the over the top vulgar language had gotten under your skin, but now? Shit now you found it hilarious and refreshing. They rarely held back, whether in the presence of men or women, it didn’t matter. If something was on the tip of their tongue, it’d be out in the open soon enough. 

“Maybe I should have brought Jess and Peaches with me for this run.” It’s a light hearted joke, casting a glance behind you at the two men who stop in their tracks. Hurk looks like he may genuinely protest, spew off the reasons why he’s a better candidate than the oversized house cat. Sharky on the other hand simply shakes his head, joining your side with an arm casually wrapped around your shoulders. “Come on man, you wouldn’t trade us for the world and you know it!” It’s then that Hurk perks up, the three of you moving once more towards the target. “Hell yeah! Ain’t like you’d be able to speak your mind with Jess around anyways, she’s so fuckin’ moody. You know, I wonder if she’s been having sex -- maybe that’s why she’s being such a stick in the mud.” That’s it, you’re nearly doubled over with laughter practically clinging on to Sharky to keep from tripping. Yeah, you’d definitely miss not going on runs with the two of them. 

The brief halt in the conversation clearly didn’t affect either of them because once more they’re striking it back up, Sharky beyond adamant that he’s doing the female race a service. “I just figure I love it when girls go down on me so they must like it to, right? I just wanna show them that I’m an _equality_ kinda guy.” Jesus Christ you’re going to actually split a gut if they keep this up, because as funny as you find it? They’re one hundred percent serious, which honestly makes it that much better. Although you’re now tuning them out, as distant voices hit your ears, a sure fire indication that you’ve almost reached the outpost. “Boys -- cut the shit, we’re here.” Almost instantly they follow your direction as you begin to speed up though remain to the trees, ensuring that no one spots you before you want them to. “Here.” Sharky’s whispering beside you as he passes you his rifle for you to try and scope out the grounds, knowing this is all your call. Silence lingers between the three of you as you count the cult members on the ground before moving up to take a headcount of those lining the building, low grunt leaving as you hand the rifle over to Sharky. “Forty from my count.” It’s more than you anticipated if you’re honest, but given you’d taken out an outpost only two hours prior? It makes sense that they would up their security.

Debating if only a moment you’ve gestured for Hurk to set himself up ten feet away, cover behind a large oak tree knowing that once yourself and Sharky begin to snipe people out Hurk will have a short window to blow those fuckers sky high and in turn for you to cover his back as he reloads. “You ready?” A nod in Sharky’s direction and the two of you are descending down the hill towards the outpost, back against a tree while Sharky steps just a little closer than you. Hand raises in the air to signal to Hurk that the two of you are in position, it takes maybe ten seconds later for the first shot from Sharky to ring out, your own following quicker than anyone can count. In a matter of thirty seconds the two of you have dropped six cultists, the outpost barely collecting their thoughts before explosion sounds signalling that Hurk’s already loading up his second. It’s repetitive motion of pulling back and firing, dropping cultist after cultist until you’ve run out of amo, moving into the thick of things only to take a guy out with dagger directly to the back of his neck. 

You can hear the struggled scream before your gaze actually settles on the sight of Sharky shoved up against the top of a cult truck, peggie at his throat. Red flashes in front of your eyes and before you can really think about it you’re moving of your own accord; distance crossed in alarming speed. Fingers have gripped into the peggies rancid locks, tugging back so roughly you swear you can hear a **crunch**, of what you’re not sure but there’s no concern for Sharky’s slashed the guy’s throat a second later; offering a grunted thanks before the two of you are bounding off to finish the rest of the ground crew. When all is said and done thirty six of the forty are dead. Sharky’s got some really deep bruising on his ribs, Hurk’s bandana is absolutely soaked in blood and your left forearm has a particularly nasty gash on it; but the outpost is now in the hands of the resistance and that’s all that really matters. The remaining cult members have been rounded up and loaded into one of the only remaining vehicles, a radio call for anyone near by to join you before heading back out to base. Fifteen minutes of high alert is all it takes to have a group of Whitetails joining the three of you, agreeance that you’ll remain behind to help clear up the rubble of the outpost and begin a new. Sharky and Hurk promise that they’ll come by later that night to see how you’re doing, but you wave it off knowing just like you, they have some healing to do. It’s like a high, revelling in the adrenaline of taking out yet another outpost, knowing that it’ll put a halt in the plans for Joseph. Maybe that will cause hardship for John and Jacob, and in turn whatever possibility of rekindling your relationships; but wasn’t that something you were willing to risk? If it meant people would be safer at night, yes. 

You were a fool to think that there wouldn’t be any form of retaliation. On one hand there had rarely been an instance where an outpost was retaken by the cult, only one time at the very beginning had it happened and solely because no one had known better. Now, you did. Yet you’re woken up at who knows what time to the sound of gun fire and distant screams, and despite the sleep that is still clouding your judgement you’re already out of the makeshift bed with gun in hand heading directly towards it. There’s windows that the resistance had just finished boarding up, smashed and broken. Blood trailing out the front door has you stepping cautiously out it, ducking down to hide behind an overturned car that had been there since this morning when you’d taken the outpost to begin with. Explosion only a few feet away from you sends you flying sideways, distracted from the impact you don’t even hear the rapidly approaching footsteps behind you until it’s too late and the butt of a gun hits your temple; cascading darkness over you in the blink of an eye.

Buzzing in your ears and sharp pain to your head indicates exactly what you figured as consciousness begins to come back to you; you’d been knocked out. For how long you’re not entirely sure, though as your surroundings come to you? Best guess is a couple hours because there’s sun coming through a far window in the small room, nothing short of a prison cell. Ironic given that you’re atop of a bed, surprised to find all your limbs free. Actually the more you think about it, it’s beyond _suspicious_ that they would let you roam free. Ah, there it is -- door is locked. Go figure. Just as all your weapons have been stripped off of your body, leaving you to quite literally sit and wait until your captors decide you need to be let out or clued into what’s going on. Thankfully you don’t have to wait for terribly long, footsteps moving towards the door only fifteen minutes from when you’ve woke and though you have no weapons on you, you’ve pressed yourself as far from the door as humanly possible; shoulders tense in wait for the door to open. The last time you found yourself in a similar situation, Pratt had fucking **thrown** your ass off a balcony at the veterans center and lord knows that hadn’t ended all that well.

Cobalt hidden behind gold dusted rims find your own, a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding escaping at the reality you’re now faced with. This is the first time since everything was set into motion that you’re face to face with him, it’s the first time you’re going to be speaking directly to him and not through his flock. Through his messengers. A spike of fear hits you, twisting into guilt. “Deputy.” Tender address as he steps over the threshold and into the room, arms spread wide as if he expects you to envelop him. **Like all the times you had before**. “Joseph.” Name tastes familiar on your tongue, bitter tones. Tsking leaves him and arms fall back to his side, head turning to the door as if he’s waiting --- Oh. Jacob and John both file into the room, door shut behind them and it’s not until the weight of the lock sounds that you realize how bad this situation truly is. For weeks you’ve felt empowered, felt as though you could easily take on the world but now? Now that you’re face with the three of them, you feel _small_ and insignificant. Shoulders physically can not be further pressed against the wall than they already are, but fuck do you wish the wall would just swallow you whole in that moment. Of course it never happens, but what does happen? Joseph is taking steps towards you in what seems like a twisted version of slow motion because while he seems slowed down, the actions of John and Jacob being proverbial guards at the door has your heart beating louder and louder in your chest.

“Are you frightened, my child?.” He’s so very close. Close enough that you can see how long his eyelashes are behind his glasses, that you can smell his cologne mixing with the scent of freshly washed hair. Breathing barely kept in check as you stare back at him expectantly, after all every interaction the resistance has held with Joseph ended in blood shed or brainwashing. Why should you be any different? “Is there a right answer?” Response is offered, watching his features carefully. “If I say no will you get your _harolds_ to push my limits until I submit? Until I confess?” Only then does your gaze venture over his shoulder to the others, noting the way John’s brow twitches into a furrow if only for a brief second. Jacob’s expression however, doesn’t sway from the ever present stern gaze. “And if I say yes, will you lull me into a false sense of security with promises of protection?” Ether answer seems like a loaded one, in your mind. Joseph doesn’t seem to be bothered by your words, letting you have your time to speak only to tilt his head while watching you. It puts you on edge, why hasn’t he responded? Why haven’t John or Jacob said something. Usually you’re able to figure out where a conversation is going, but Joseph isn’t as predictable as his brothers. Not anymore, at least.

Fingers have found purchase against the column of your throat, gentle despite the obvious power he holds beneath the pads of his fingers. Sharp breath is taken in but it’s not from ether of you, John’s now three steps closer than he was the last time you looked at him. “For so long I have waited. Waited for God to show me the path you would carve out, for what your purpose would be.” Opening your mouth to retaliate the smart ass remark is snuffed out by pressure applied to your throat from Joseph, disgusted with yourself by the spark of _arousal_ in the pit of your stomach. “I know now that your blatant disregard for our journey is not one to be punished, but that it has lead all of us to this very moment. God has returned you to us, and we will not waste such a precious gift.” Pause as pressure is released, thumb brushing over your skin. “Will we?” Question lingers in the air and for a moment you wonder if Joseph expects you to answer. You don’t, two other voices do. “No, we won’t.” As if it’s a singular voice, it echoes in the room from two different octaves. John and Jacob are in on this, it seems. The thought only provokes fear further from you. Ignoring the small part of your mind screaming at you to lash out with each movement of Joseph’s hand against your skin, fingers now threading into loose locks, you find your own voice. “What is my purpose, Joseph?” Eyes practically ignite with flamed passion, lips twisting up into what can only be described as a debauched grin. “God has deemed you a key part of our journey into Edens Gate.” Thumb brushes across your bottom lip slow, eyes flickering from plump skin back to meet your gaze as words hit you like a fist to the gut. “**You will be the Mother**.”


	5. Explanation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologizes for the absence but here is an update ! You can also expect another chapter tomorrow, and it's going to get nsfw ;)

_Soft shallow breaths, wispy hairs ghosting across the pillow as small frame turns under heavy blanket; contented sigh escaping. Slowly a low hum catches her subconscious, cluing her into the reality that she’s not the only one half awake. Strong hold catches around her waist, pulled tightly into firm body with low grumble behind her; scent of day old after shave sparking her senses. “What time is it?” For a moment she’s unsure if the question fell from her mouth or his, the silence tells her it was him that asked and in her sleep filled haze eyes open to face the clock, deep sigh leaving. “Five.” Tired and annoyed groan is met via response, amusement slowly creeping over her own features. “You’ll be late and we both know John’s definitely already beat you to the shower.” Yet another annoyed groan this time followed with tightened grip around her waist, possessive as he buries stubble covered face into the crook of her neck. It’s more than apparent that he’d prefer to stay there until the sun sets once more, but alas life continues on and thusly a certain someone has to go to work. “Such bullshit.” Curse falls before kisses trail across sensitive skin, her own breath catching. “Jacob, you need to stop and get going.” Chuckle is met before he’s tearing himself away from soft skin and exiting the bed, muttering something about her being a spoil sport._

_Mewling sound leaves with long stretch, taking advantage of the new room in the bed, rolling over onto her back to watch as broad shoulders disappear behind cloth. “On a scale of one to ten, how likely do you think it is that Joseph would be willing to keep me company today?” Side glance is earned from the red head, studying her before shaking his head and continuing to dress. “Depends on if he’s been drinkin’ last night or not, darlin’. John won that big fuckin’ case in the city, probably went out to celebrate, reckon he got Joseph to go with him.” It’s more than likely, she knows that. “Can you call him on your way out for me?” Again there’s a glance in her direction, incredulous. “Aint’ you capable of callin’ him yourself?” Whine leaves her, sharp and obnoxious. “But then I have to stay up and it’s too early. See --- if you call him, Joseph can just let himself in and I can sleep a few more hours.” It’s a poor excuse, but they both know that ether way Jacob is definitely going to call Joseph and tell him to keep an eye on her. “Whatever, I’ll call him.” It’s grumbled as he moves back to the bed, bent over to steal chaste kiss. It’s not until he’s almost out the bedroom door that she calls to him once more, his frame halting with hand on the handle. “Jacob? ------ You’re going to ask him to behave himself, aren’t you?” Smirk grows against full lips before pink brushes out, wetting at bottom lip. “Does he ever listen?”_

\------

Recalled memory hits you like a wave of nostalgia, a god damn sinnister reminder that the three men in front of you are nothing like the ones you remember. They’re not the men you spent hot georgia summers drinking beers with, they’re not the men who would protect you when the thunder storms got too loud. And they’re sure as shit not the same men you once **loved**. The words from his lips imply things that quite frankly you’re not ready to register. “I’m not spending seven years in a bunker with any of you. The fucking apocolypse isn’t real, Joseph!” Violent words practically spewed forth, hands heavily colliding with his chest in rough push; noting the reaction from Jacob and John as they take steps closer. No, you’re not doing this. Quick and calculated movement has you up on and across the bed scrambling towards the door, much faster than the three brothers can register. Door’s barely unlocked and swung open before large hand has wrapped around your arm and pulled back roughly, fighting instincts to punch kick in as your fist comes up ready to collide only to be stopped. “Damn it Jacob let me go!” Grunt escapes the red head as fists collide with his chest repetitively, squirming in his grasp. If only you had one of your weapons, at least that would give you some kind of leverage, not that you had it in you to really use it on any of them; not this close. Not when you can see them suffer. No, you weren’t that twisted. “You will see the light. God has shown me our future with you by my side, guiding us into Eden.” Joseph doesn’t seem even remotely phased by the former out burst, John on the other hand looks torn as he lingers by the bed; body language stiff. “No.” Stern and adamant despite the overwhelming desire to raise your knee and connect with Jacob, which you do end up trying a second later; it only gets you shoved up against the wall with large hand splayed against your chest forcing you still. “Stop testin’ my patience.” Growled voice has goosebumps crawling across your skin, grinding your teeth at the way your body continues to betray you. 

Tsking noise sounds from Joseph and it’s obviously some kind of cue because Jacob’s instantly backing off, intense gaze lingering on you as steps bring him back towards John. Chest rises and falls heavily, attempting to catch your breath. The tension stronger than any you’ve felt between Kim and Nick in the worst of fights, yet neither of the three brothers have made any indication to move. Perhaps it’s a test, maybe it isn’t. “Am I your prisoner here?” You don’t care who answers, though to an extent it’s directed at John given he’s tried to keep you against your will in the past and lord knows how that worked out. Chest still harbours the scars to prove it. “No one is here against their own will, those who come to me come of their own accord. You should know by now that’s not who I am, that’s not who we are.” Words come from Joseph but only make you scoff, “I don’t know who you are anymore Joseph.” The words fall but you weren’t anticipating how it would cause an _ache_ in your chest, how it would cause Joseph’s brilliant smile to falter. You can almost see the dejection in his eyes, genuine. “We’re the same men you’ve always known, y/n.” It’s not the response you expected, nor from the person you expected as John’s began to cross the room slowly towards you. He moves like a lion trying to persuade its prey that it won’t actually tear it limb from bloody limb, to coax you into a false sense of security. “The only difference is that we know now the truth of what is to come and we’ve accepted it. We’ve accepted our sins and try to teach others to do the same, we want everyone to find peace in Eden.”

There’s a million ways you could scoff at the words, of how you could point out nothing of Joseph’s actions in the last months have been peaceful. Instead the four of you are silent in the room, simply staring at each other. While you’re unsure of how long it is that the silence continues, you do know that it’s long enough to stir up long since repressed memories. Memories that have you biting at your tongue so hard there’s blood starting to build in your mouth, a taste that brings you to the realization that this is the perfect time to make your move. “If I’m not your prisoner….” Words trail off with careful steps backwards, the door still seems so far away. This time however not a single one of them moves, they simply stare back at you as if they expect you to stay, as if they _need_ you to stay. As quick as a god damn jack rabbit you’ve turned once more and bounded out the door, a solemn tone faintly caressing your system as you attempt to escape the ranch. “She always comes back.”

When you started working for Hope County police you never expected that in the span of four months, give or take, on the job you’d end up a murderer. To be fair you’d never expected to be face to face with a murderous cult formed by three brothers who used to be your rocks. It’s easy to say that life can be a cruel and fickle little bitch. It can bring you incredible and beautiful moments like witnessing a childs birth or a family reuniting after being saved from the cult. It can also throw you to literal wolves who are fucked up on drugs, jacked out of their mind ripping into your skin until it’s shredded beyond repair; but somehow you still manage to stay alive. All perfect examples of things that had happened in the last week of your life. Currently you’re trying to explain yourself to some of your favorite people, the truth of what’s happened between yourself and the Seeds. Why? Because as of yesterday Jess overheard John’s broadcast referring to you as the mother of Eden and rightly so, freaked the fuck out. 

Thus far the only one who isn’t surprised or concerned is Adelaide, and really you’re not all that surprised given her crude commentary about the Seeds. “Jess honey just calm down.” It takes a mere beat before the pacing bowwoman has turned on Addie, stern gaze. “Don’t tell me to fucking calm down, Drubman! She’s supposed to be a mother to those whack jobs? She’s fucking been with Jacob so many times, how do we know she hasn’t been totally brain washed, huh!” Sharky’s stepping in this time, clearing his throat from his stool. 8 bit pizza is definitely not the place to be having this conversation, but it’s the only place to get everyone together. “Not to step on your toes or nothin’ Jess, but if Dep was all gooey in the head I would know. Shit man, I’ve been spendin’ almost every day with the chick. I’d know if she was ‘bout to carve my eyeballs out with a rusted spoon, ya know?” The death glare between the two of them is one everyone can catch, but all the same you’re closing your eyes with heavy sigh only to push back in your chair; loud scraping across wooden floor. “You guys going to give me a second to say my piece or not?” Everyone finally shuts up, though you just know they’re all itching to say something. Grace sure as hell looks as if she’s ready to pop someone’s head right off.

”There’s a few things about me that none of you are aware of, not even Whitehorse knows this shit --- I kept it from everyone and I realize now that definitely wasn’t the right thing to do. I know that now it’ll probably taint your perception of me, but I need to come clean.” Specifically, you wanted them all to know why the Seeds seemingly have an obsession with you over everyone else. “I --- “ son of a bitch, there’s so many eyes on you. “I’ve known the Seed brothers since they lived in Rome, since John was still technically in foster care. I um….I was **involved** with them.” A beat isn’t even skipped before Sharky’s perking up, wicked grin on his features. “Ah-ha! Fuckin’ called that shit man, didn’t I Hurk?” Elbow’s in his cousins ribs hard enough to cause twanged insult from Hurk. “No wonder John’s got such a fuckin’ hard on for ya.” Both the Rye’s are urging Sharky to shut up and let you continue, though you can tell a few of your friends are not too interested in listening to the rest of your story.

”They weren’t always like this and shit --- I fucking know that’s a lame excuse man, but it’s the truth. Joseph was never religious when I knew him, wouldn’t even walk on the same aside of the street of a church. Whatever’s happened to make him this way….had to have been a big deal, maybe he’s fucked up on bliss like so many of the followers, I don’t know.” There’s nothing you can say to explain the drastic change in Joseph. “The last time I saw John and Jacob was two months after Jacob came back from the Iraq war, he’d been in hospital and it just ---- it was hard to witness.” Brief pause has you scrunching up your features, if only to keep you from getting emotional. “You guys gotta understand this though, alright? There’s years of resentment between myself and the Seeds, I left them to get away from how crappy I felt small towns were. It’s that resentment that’s built into their obsession --- I guess. I don’t…” Tongue brushes out to lick across bottom lip, hand running over your face slowly. “Whatever you think of me, if I’m brainwashed or not. You need to know that I will never willingly abandon any of you. The relationship I had with them is long gone. You have become my family and I’ll be damned if I let these bible thumpers sway me.”

Silence can be overwhelming when you’re staring back at multiple faces that you’ve saved countless times, or vice versa. Especially knowing that a few of them could easily take you out right here and now, supposed friendship or not. A good solid four minutes solidly tick by until Grace stands up and adjusts her rifle onto her back, pointed gaze in your direction and with a blunt response that could only be described as a Grace-ism, she responds. “Fuck ‘em. You’re one of us now.” Instantaneous relief floods your system, shoulders literally slumping as the weight lifts off of you; laughter erupting from Addie. “Oh honey, we ain’t gonna judge ya for enjoyin’ some good dick. Not unless ya plan on goin’ back to them crazy folks.” It encourages a spiral off of how John could still get it, as crazy as he is. Yeah, you know now that without a doubt you’ve gained a family in the heart of Hope County.


	6. Oh The Bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try and start pumping out two or three chapters a week, but no promises ! Also, I've been thinking of doing some other one offs involving the other characters but we'll see what happens !!

Taking out an angel farm was supposed to be easy, it was supposed to go down without a hitch. Supposed to. You’d managed to ensure no one else would be tainted and turned into a mindless zombie thanks to Faith’s insistent bliss pushing, but in the process both you and Sharky got a little too close to the bliss. Nine peggies were dead, which was a huge positive but unfortunately the two of you were now slowly succumbing to Bliss and while you’ve had your run ins with it before? You didn’t anticipate this take down to be a bliss fuelled nightmare. “Shiiiit.” Sharky’s drawing out the swear as he slumps over the hood of a now abandoned peggie truck, eyes glossed over as he studies you. “This ain’t good, Dep. Think maybe ----” He can’t even finish his sentence, mind too taken. You think you understand what he was trying to ask, that maybe this bliss that they had been pumping angels full of lately was a higher dosage than anything they’d seen before. Yeah, you’ve got to agree with him because while you’ve still got the good sense to tug Sharky towards the small homely shack you know that until you get inside and down into that tiny ass bunker you’re both in trouble. With this much bliss running through your systems, if anyone from the cult were to come across you? There’s no telling what would happen.

Heavy metal signals the closing of the bunker as you nearly fall down the ladder, feet skidding out from beneath you as you try and find your bearings; blinking slower than normal. “Where’s…” Everything is jumbled as your body heats up, a state of serenity washing over you. “Radio.” Word is offered though Sharky doesn’t pay much mind,he’s already found a new home in a washed out bean bag chair in the far corner, wide stretched grin on his face. Somehow, despite everything, fingers have pressed against the radio to spark it up. “Dutch….**Dutch**, I’m… with Sharky in a bunker, just outside of Angel Peak.” Your clothes feel too heavy with each passing second, tongue brushing out at your bottom lip while you try and cure the endless dry mouth you’ve seemed to achieve. “Got dosed with shit ton ‘o Bliss.” The notion of needing someone to come find them and evacuate is obvious, but it doesn’t come from your mouth. Instead the radio’s crackling and gruff voice sounds, literal saviour as you begin to relax. “_Gotcha kid! Stay put, Whitehorse knows where you were headed, we’ll come find you. Might be an hour or two._” If you were in your right mind you might have answered him back, telling him that waiting an hour isn’t ideal. What if Faith found out about the take down? What if Joseph was in the area? There’s too many what ifs, but with the bliss tainting your system you can’t seem to find it within you to care.

The last time you’d been affected by Bliss you’d woken up in the middle of the mountains with peaches mewling to try and wake you up, pouncing on you when you actually woke up. It’s different now because you’re not alone, and you know it’s only going to make things worse. Turns out that the Bliss can affect everyone differently, usually it makes them terribly docile until aggravated and then murderous. For you? Shit for you it’s like smoking a shit ton of pot and then taking eight tabs of LSD. In other words, you’re beyond relaxed and a smidge horny. “You feelin’ alright shorty?” Voice shakes you away from your relaxed trance, gaze shifting towards Sharky on the bean bag chair; but why does it feel like they moved slower than your head turned? “Mmm nope.” The p pops off the tongue, sliding off the prisonesqe bed only to lean back against it’s frame; deep breath inward. “ ‘m too hot and I feel like I could fuckin’ just…” Eyes shut with another inhale, head lulling to the side. “Sleep y’know? Or fuck, don’t know which is better.” 

Your words have apparently resounded with Sharky because there’s a sharp low groan from him that has your eyes snapping open, and wow had Sharky always been so handsome? Jesus fucking Christ, as you shift over towards him you can see clearly how long his eyelashes are. How when he laughs at your words there’s these cute little crinkles by his eyes. Sharky was an attractive man, you’d known that from the get go but he’d also always just been your friend. Shit, him and Hurk had quickly become your best friends. “I feel that man, I fuckin’ feel that shit but you know there’s a solution, right?” His hand’s moving out towards you and for a second your brain snaps back to reality and holy shit is he reaching for you? “Call John -- his hard on’ll drive ‘em here in ten minutes or less man. Bet he’d be willin’ to even drop me off somewhere just to fuck ya.” Wide eyes blink slowly before you’re laughing so hard that you’ve literally fallen into him, collapsing beside him half way on the bean bag. God damn it, that sounds like a good idea. Not necessarily getting fucked by the man that carved a false sin into your skin, but getting him over here because while it was a dangerous ploy? It’d work. John would always ensure you were safe. “You’ve got some good ideas, Sharky.” Words tumble with more laughter, head tilting back to look at him; smile matching his own goofy one. Fuck it, you’re going to do it.

Turns out Sharky’s already ahead of you because he’s speaking and you’ve only now recognized it, that he isn’t speaking to you. “Callin’ out Baptist boy! Not to toot my own horn or nothin’ but I’ve got ya bestie clingin’ to me and _maaaaan_ lemme tell ya she smells fuckin’ amazin’ dude.” Whether he’s being serious or not you don’t know, but you’re still in a fit of giggles as you practically crawl over him to grab the radio from his hands in time to hear him huff out his own laughter. “Johnny.” It’s your attempt that has him responding, white noise and then low voice stern and level. “**Where are you, y/n?**” Head’s lulled back against Sharky’s chest, relaxed. “Angels Peak, in a bunker by the angel recruitment. --- hey! Didya know that Faith’s been upping the bliss? It’s….it’s strong, J.” There’s a hand splayed out against your back, heavy and hot though lulling you into a sense of calm nature as fingers stroke up and down. “**Fuck sake.**” The curse has Sharky laughing and your heads moving with the gut laughter, smile still stretching wide. “John --- John ya gotta promise ya won’t hurt him, k?” There’s no response initially but before you can worry through the clouded haze there’s a single utterance of, “**Fine**.” 

Bright light swarms the bunker, tearing you away from the warmth you’ve created by cuddling into Sharky’s side. Eyes scrunched up together as you peer upward, ignoring how your vision is still swimming after who knows how long. “**Get up.**” Voice echos around you and you know, there’s no point in arguing with him because he’s got that look on his features as if he’s going to just absolutely ream you out. Grumbling you’ve pushed yourself to your feet, reaching for Sharky to follow you. He’s got the exact same response, groaning about how he doesn’t want to move. It takes ten minutes to get out of the bunker and fuck sake is it bright outside, eyes feeling even heavier now that you’re outside again. John’s all but shoving you towards his car, glaring at Sharky the entire time and despite the bliss clouding your judgement you’re grateful that John came without any of his followers; without any prying eyes. “Thank you Johnny.” Soft cooes leave, head turning to watch him climb into the drivers seat after getting both you and Sharky safely into the car. Piercing blue eyes simply snap in your direction, brows furrowed tightly with a grunt as engine roars to life.

There’s a hand running through your hair and distant calling of your name urging you back to consciousness. Hum leaves you until it hits you roughly that you’re definitely not in a car anymore, and instant fear cripples you. Body shoots up so quickly that groan falls, because wow the bliss is definitely still in your system; room spinning violently. “Sharky! Where --- Fuck me.” Eyes clenched shut as tight as possible to keep the room from spinning any further, ignoring how John seemed to practically glow. Definitely the bliss. “He’s fine. I dropped him by the prison, if they don’t find him that’s on them not me.” He’s too confident about it, about the possibility of Sharky being out on the side of the road blissed out of his mind with no one to watch out of him. Normally it would cause anger to erupt over and lash out, unfortunately with the bliss still twisting into your system all you care about is the fact that he honoured your request of not hurting Sharky. “Thank you Johnny.” Once more fingers have begun to coax through your hair, as if a cue to guide you back down against the bed; against broad chest awaiting you. “Shouldn’t have gone after Faith’s angels, y/n. Bliss is going to be in your system for a few hours still, and I can’t trust you to be out there like this.” No, he couldn’t trust himself to leave you like that. Couldn’t trust himself to let you wander Hope County fucked up out of your mind, unable to pull the trigger if someone attacked you. For one single reason, that you knew damn well. John was _weak_, he loved you.

He smells so good and it’s doing your head in. There’s too many questions still on the tip of your tongue, for example where the hell are you right now? Does anyone know that you’re with John? Instead what comes out is a rather straight forward and _blunt_ question. “If I say YES will you fuck me?” What your mind had wanted to say was far more complex than that. If you said yes to atonement, and to confession would the Seeds finally let your friends be free? Would they take you instead? Would John forget the crazed man he had become and fall back into the role you knew him to be? A loving and devoted man, a lover not a fighter. However the Bliss in your system conviluted your words and thusly, you’ve earned sharp intake from John and grip in your hair tightening to a halt. The silence lingers too long for your liking, body turning against him to sit back up, facing him properly. “Johnny?” Azure orbs simply stare back at you hidden behind a darker gaze, brows knitted tight as if he’s thinking about something causing him stress. “Will you?” Tone has turned into soft coos, a slight buzz thrumming through your system. The hand that was in your hair has now moved under the pillow by his head, as if he’s trying not to touch you, to keep himself distant from you. “If I say **yes**,” it’s trailed off and with rational mind out the window you’ve straddled his lap with swift movement, hands splaying out across his abdomen slow. “Will you touch me again?”

Something snaps in his mind similar to the times you’ve pissed him off in the last three months, when he carved wrath into your skin, John’s switched your positions with a hand wrapped around your throat. Fear would be a rational train of thought given the man has literally stabbed you and tried to kill your friends, yet with the bliss circulating so deep in your system the instinctive reaction apparently, is for your hips to arch upward into his own; a silent plea to spur him on. “You need to stop talkin’, y/n.” Gruff voice greets you as fingers tighten around the column of your throat, proving how dangerous this really is. This game you’re playing, whether you realize it or not, is like dangling on the edge of a cliff and climbing back up with one hand. It could end terribly, or it could end up less terrible. “Do it.” Whisper leaves you with another roll up of your hips, encouraging him to act on his rage, to act on whatever he wants to do. Part of you even with the bliss ruling over you, didn’t think he’d cave and yet when his lips find yours roughly it’s a surprised moan that befalls you with a notion of relief. Everything was going to change now.


	7. Update

Hey all ! I just wanted to drop a note and let you all know I have no intention of abandoning this work, I've unfortunately been working insane amounts and thusly I've been painfully slow to update. There is a positive on the way though ! I've posted a new chapter last night ( Nov 4th), and I'll be working on the next asap, which should be out by Friday ! Keep your eyes peeled, and thank you to everyone for the kind messages I've been getting <3


	8. Make You See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joseph was right, Deputy has always been apart of Gods plan, for a very specific reason and soon she will finally understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess whose back in action~ ya girl.

Imagery of blood shed and bullet ripped open skin tangles with the beauty of familiar features, Joseph’s face contorted into confusion. Anger opens up to swallow him whole and in that action everything takes another turn, those of people you don’t recognize and those that you do. Dead. Every single one of them slaughtered by the act of a holy war, seemingly not worth fighting. It’s only when hands grip your arms to sate the screams leaving your throat do you realize it’s not real, a dream brought on by copious amounts of bliss; surely. Yet, you still wake in his bed. That much isn’t a dream, no that had indeed happened. There’s genuine concern in John’s eyes as grip tightens on your arms, gaze searching your own as if to find any sense of uncertainty in himself. “I’m fine.” Barely audible with an attempt to move out of his touch, none of this is right. You shouldn’t be here. “**Is this because of last night? Darlin’ we didn’t ---**” No, you know nothing happened. The bliss might have been heavily pressed into your system but you vividly recall John axing the idea of sex after an incredibly heavy makeout session. You pride had been wounded but over all, the bliss and sleep had won out, prompting you to where you are now. “No I just --- “ Jaw clenches and with a shake of your head John’s form is left behind, an escape attempt from the ranch successful in a matter of minutes.

Once you’ve had that kind of influence over your system, it’s hard to get back to a normal state of mind. Your dreams have slowly become nightmares, filled with faces of people that you don’t recognize and yet in your dreams you know them to be friends. It’s so terribly real, nights become horror shows when each time you wake up screaming in cold flashes. It’s gotten so bad that no matter where you lay your head, someone is worrying over you. The list continues to grow as the night prior Grace had stood over your screaming form and swore it was like something out of a PTSD war image. Names begin to lick the inside of your mouth, of people you swear you’ve never met and yet a name you bring up to Whitehorse rings a bell and god the sheer FEAR spreading over you is overwhelming. “**Rush?**” His brows come to furrow, incredulous as to how you could know the name. “**Yeah, I’ve heard of him. Burke mentioned him being an asset to the bureau, some kinda influence between the military and the bureau.**” There’s no plausible way to explain how you knew the name, or how his face had come to your mind at night but it had. There’s a small part of you, deep within, curious as to what it means. However the rational part of you knows it has to be some kind of bliss influenced bullshit, a trick of the mind brought on by Faith. Which is exactly why your motive to wipe out Faith is valid, especially after Burke kills an innocent man. Virgil was no one to the cult, he wasn’t any threat. He had been a kind and gentle old man, someone who simply wanted life to continue as it always had. Virgil was a good man, but wasn’t Burke at one point? It’s the hold of Faith that’s gotten good men killed, good men twisted into cruel creatures of vengeance.

“_Coward. The end is near, you know._” The singular word rattles around in your head, muzzle of the gun pointed at the floating vision. Is this really Faith or another hallucination? There’s only one way to find out. “_None of this is my fault! You think I wanted this? He plied me with drugs ! Threatened me, I was seventeen, just a **child**!_” It only confirms what you’ve known all along, this is not the Faith you once knew but a carbon copy. Diluted. The trigger is pulled and sharp scream rings out, everything is terribly still as the reality begins to come to light. There’s no one else there except for you and Faith, both worse for wear as the latter stumbles in front of you, hand clutching her stomach unable to stop the seeping crimson. “_You still don’t understand. You don’t know what it is you’re doing, do you?_” It’s hard to witness. How shallow her breaths are, the struggle her lungs must be going through to keep her upright. There’s intention of reaching for her, of uttering pleas for her to stop talking but nothing comes. “_Joseph believes he’s our saviour, but you’ll be the one who decides what happens. You were the start, you’ll be the end._” Stumbled stance has a hand reaching for you, despite how you in turn move backwards, untrusting despite everything that’s taken place; despite how weak she is. Solemn nod has bloodied blonde tresses shaking, the realization of death seeping between the two of you as her legs begin to give out in the water. Before you can think better of it you’re moving forward, ignoring the sharp pains in your body if only to clutch at her shoulders in the water. “_It was always going to happen this way. You’ll walk the path, rescue your sheriff and become the hero and then you’ll choose_” Giggles as though nothing is impending, as though every time she coughs there isn’t more blood etching against frail lips. How can she continue like this? Has the bliss gone to her head that the fear of dying is no longer there? “_And if you don’t listen to him….. He’ll be right._”

It’s a sense of pity and perhaps pang of guilt that has you radioing the exact spot of Faith’s demise to Joseph, only after you’ve had an extraction by Nick and Grace; the latter insisting you need a hospital not just some vet tech that happens to know how to sew up a wound. “I’m sorry.” Are you though? The radio’s clicked off and offered back to Grace’s outstretched hand before the darkness takes your vision. There’s no dreams this time, nothing but peace in the dark and it almost has you believing it’s because Faith is gone now. That because Henbane is free that those nightmares will vanish, into air. You’re not that naive. “Joseph’s fucking pissed, man.” Nick’s rambling when you come to, groaning as you push yourself up on the makeshift bed. Yeah, still alive and still bruised but hey at least the sheriff is alive and the prison still standing. “Do you ever ---” Breath in as pink brushes across your bottom lip, “Stop worrying?” It’s meant to be some kind of jest but whoever he was talking to is ushering Nick out of the room, giving you privacy with your thoughts. Doesn’t last long as the television in the corner flashes on to a broadcast from Joseph, some kind of mournful notion over Faith; and the truth that she wasn’t the first to carry that name. There’s a sense of dread filling you with each passing second that you watch the broadcast, something tugging at your subconscious letting you know that this is only the start of what’s to come. For a week after Faith’s death you didn’t hear a damn thing from any of the Seeds, hell it was like they completely retreated into a hole in the ground. Outposts were taken down without a hitch, celebrations were heard around Hope County and all of your friends were happy. It felt like a semblance of normalcy, of freedom. For the first time in a long time your mind was clear of doubt, of nightmares and sin. At least it was until the siege of John’s ranch.

Everything had been fine, going to plan even. You had Addie up in the air taking care of business and Grace down on the ground with you, sniping anyone before they even got a chance to look at you. Cocky. That’s it. You had gotten cocky, with how _easy_ it had been lately. Outpost after outpost fell, why wouldn’t John’s place be just as easy? “Alright -- I’m going to clear out the back. Keep a watch up top.” The order came before you and Grace parted ways, quick movement across gravel and jump over an over turned bliss tank. Gurgle of blood inside of their throat sounds as your knife collides with the back of a cultist’s neck, pulled out roughly as you continue to move around the back; there’s no time to hesitate. You needed to make sure you could clear the ranch and claim it before John came back from the mountains, before he sent in reinforcements. **PAIN**. The sound of a bullet being fired is dull in your ears, force pushing you back into a stumble. Then another. Wetness starts to pool at your left shoulder, fire spreading in your joints. Loud voices and explosions sound, the bright film of red flashing off to your left signalling a sniper you hadn’t taken into account; his light being snuffed out by a rage induced Addie. The fall to the ground isn’t anything close to graceful, a crumpled mess against dirt, your gun underneath you digging into your ribs; sharp hissing leaving you as you try and catch your breath despite how quickly the world has begun to fuzz and spin around you. God damn it how could you be so stupid! Letting a piece of shit peggie take you down. Was this really how you were going to slip into the abyss? Had Joseph been wrong about your path? Whatever answers or further questions fate had for you die with the darkness blinding your vision, consciousness being lost.

_The plane is practically on fire as it crashes out of the sky, the only indication that he jumped is his parachute launching and the distinct voice over the radio on your hip as you follow through the clouds, empty promises of returning to his people. To ready the bunker for his arrival, that the time they practiced for is finally upon them. It takes but a minute to catch up to his limping form, a bullet catching him and knocking him flat on his ass as boot is pressed to his chest; growl emitting from you in distaste. His time had come to an end and all over a damn key. Ignorance is bliss they say, but there’s no time for you to dwell on it because there’s one more peg to be taken down._

_Pathetic how a man of his stature needs a practical army dispatched group to fend off his attacker while he flees, spewing words of the end that he knew it would happen. Turns out you were never weak after all, he was the weak one. He was the one who couldn’t survive the end, who didn’t have what it took. You’ve got a mind to point it out to him, that in the end the wolf was the one who was slaughtered by the lamb. Ironic, that he’s the one choking on his last whimper of breath. It’s almost over now._

_Where it all began is where it comes to an end. Clouds of atomic nature blossom in dramatic fashion, urging wildlife and human kind fleeing in all directions. The man who created the chaos is the one who manages to get you to safety, manages to keep you a prisoner in such a confined space that you swear you’re going to go out of your mind. In the end you do exactly that, giving in to the rambles of a mad man if only to lose your own voice. The years break you down, it has that effect on even the sanest of people. When you emerged from the depths the light is so bright it’s almost as if you’ve forgotten what the sun was. Months turn into years and the world falls into a natural utopia once more; peace has come to Earth. Messiah reborn and proven right continues to conduct preachings and you follow them with certainty. Until a new man steps into the light with the same last name but there’s a sense of depravity within him, of deep rooted **evil**. Stronger than you ever thought plausible, something that even the Messiah can sense. Ethan will be the downfall of everything. As it turns out there always had been a choice, you had chosen incorrectly._

__


End file.
